Why Should Delaware Care?
Farms are estimated to account for about 40% of Delaware’s land, and a large part of the state’s economy. Soybeans are one of the key crops produced by grain farmers, both for the region’s poultry industry and export markets. Profitable farms are more likely to avoid development, while the health of the state’s farming economy also feeds into banks and the surrounding economy.

A years-long drop in soybean prices has been exacerbated by China’s gutting of soybean imports this fall. Still, Delaware farmers say they are still able to scrape by. 

President Donald Trump’s ongoing tariff war with China has caused U.S. soybean exports to that country to evaporate in recent months. And while that makes it harder for farmers to turn a profit, or break even on their crops, Delaware farmers have still found a market to sell their beans to poultry companies on the Delmarva Peninsula. 

“Because of the chicken industry, we have that uniqueness that we never grow enough [soybeans],” said Ray Ellis, a Millsboro-based grain farmer.

Farmers in the Midwest that do not have a local demand for their soybeans, but rather ship their crops to China and other international markets, have been hit harder, Ellis added. China has historically been the largest export market for the American beans used in animal feed and to make consumer meals like tofu.

As agricultural researchers, like University of Delaware Farm Business Management Specialist Nate Bruce, point to the tariff war with China as having caused a drop in soybean prices, some local farmers are more reluctant to blame the Trump administration. 

“The tariff thing I’m not worried about. It’s a self-correcting problem,” Felton-area farmer Jim Minners, who is also the president of the Kent County Farm Bureau, told Spotlight Delaware.

Minners said instead he would pin the price drop on a global soybean surplus. Ellis cited a surplus in corn production, which can also be used in animal feed, as driving the soybean price down too. 

Soybean harvesting season begins in Delaware in mid-October and continues into early December. 

Prices and sales

China is the world’s top purchaser of soybeans, and typically gets a large share of its beans from the United States. After the Trump administration instituted higher tariffs on Chinese products this spring, China retaliated with a 34% tax on American soybeans, among other goods.

As a result, Chinese imports of American soybeans have dropped from $12.6 billion last year to $0 this harvest season. China has instead turned to soybean markets in Brazil and Argentina, leaving more than half the U.S. soybean market scrambling.

The Chicago Board of Trade, a major nationwide trading company, sets the price for soybeans every day. 

According to Bruce, the UD agricultural researcher, the soybean price has dropped from $14.20 in the 2022-23 harvest season to $12.40 in 2023-24, and $10.33 this season. 

While the Chicago price is the national rate, there is also a small local variation, called a basis, which determines whether farmers in a certain region will be paid a rate over or under the Chicago price. The current soybean basis in Delaware is -0.50 cents, so local farmers would make $9.83 per bushel that they sell, Bruce said. 

Minners, who has about 550 acres of farmland spread across Kent County, said this soybean price is just enough to break even on costs this year. 

“It would be nice to have more, but at $10 you can cover your bills,” he said. 

Another Kent County farmer, Dave Marvel, agreed. He said it wouldn’t be a year to buy new machinery, but most Delaware farmers would be able to get by with the prices. 

When asked whether a rate of $10 per bushel is enough for Delaware farmers to make a profit, Bruce said that discussion was “opening up a can of worms.” The outcome for farmers, he said, depends on whether they have irrigated crops, which are more expensive, but are also more weather-resistant. 

As one of the largest poultry producing regions in the country, Kent and Sussex County farmers also are uniquely positioned to be able to sell their soybean crops to local poultry companies, where they are crushed and used for poultry feed or soybean oil. 

Ellis said he sells most of his beans to Mountaire Farms in Millsboro, while Marvel sells them to Schiff Farms in Harrington. Perdue Farms also has a soybean crushing facility in Bridgeville, to which some other local farmers sell. 

While the Delmarva poultry industry is always demanding more corn and needs to import corn in addition to what local farmers produce, the poultry companies do not always use all of the soybeans that Delaware farmers grow, Bruce said. 

Local farmers typically sell the beans not used by the poultry industry to companies at ports in Baltimore and Norfolk, Va. The accessibility of additional markets close by leaves Delaware farmers relatively more insulated from the gap in the market China has left, Bruce added. 

“We’re lucky to be here because we have an industry that wants everything that we can produce,” Minners said. 

Strategic decisions help with pricing

Many soybean farmers say they spend considerable time watching the market and the Chicago prices, deciding the best strategies for their crops that year. 

This year, Minners was able to “forward contract” his soybeans in February, meaning he agreed to sell them for a set price before he had even planted any of the crops. The early contracting allowed him to secure his deals at $10 per bushel, higher than the current soybean price in Delaware. 

Ellis too did some forward contracting before he began planting soybeans. He also said he plans to store some of his soybeans in grain bins for a couple months until he might be able to sell them at a more profitable price. 

Bruce described pre-contracting and storing beans as good ways to counteract the current low soybean prices, although he said the cost of storing the soybeans can pose challenges for some farmers. 

In addition to making decisions about when to sell the soybeans, farmers have to assess whether it will increase profits to lean more heavily into corn or soybean crops in a given year. 

The trends in the Chicago prices of corn and soybeans typically match one another, Bruce said, so that all farmers are not incentivized to just produce one crop or another. 

While corn prices have not dropped as low as soybean prices, the corn price is under $5 this year, which is below the threshold for most farmers to make a profit, Minners said. 

Minners said he only planted 111 acres of soybeans this year, about a two-thirds less than his typical 300-acre crop, because he was seeing more upside potential with corn. 

Marvel, who farms about 700 acres in western Kent County, decided to go against the grain and stick with soybeans because the costs for fertilizer and fuel for corn were looking higher for him. 

“Sometimes salmon have to swim upstream,” Marvel said.

In assessing how many corn versus soybean crops to plant, many farmers also face the uncertainty of weather conditions. 

Ellis has an irrigation system on his farm, making him less impacted by environmental factors. Marvel does not have an irrigation system, however, so some of his soybean crops were killed by a series of heavy rains during the planting season. 

“Our soybean crop will definitely be below normal,” Marvel said. 

The road ahead

While some farmers, like Ellis and Minners, think the soybean market and tariff situation will work itself out, Bruce sees a long road ahead for soybean farmers if the Trump administration does not come to an agreement with China. 

Ellis said he does not feel too worried by the current situation because he believes that whoever was purchasing soybeans from Brazil and Argentina before China took over their markets this year will find their way to the U.S. soybean markets.

For Minners, it has been more than four years since he has had a profitable enough harvest to upgrade any of his equipment. Still, he said he thinks holding strong with tariffs on China are worth it to the American economy in the long term. 

“You play hardball with them, and after a while, they’re going to come around,” he added. 

If the United States and China do not work out a trade agreement in the short-term, Bruce said he predicts a painful period for American soybean farmers. 

Eventually, 10 to 15 years down the line, Bruce said he believes some American companies will have built their own soybean crushing facilities, and China won’t have such a dominating impact on the global soybean market. But that won’t come for some time. 

While Ellis described himself as an optimist, he said what keeps him going amid the uncertainty is a lifelong passion for farming. 

“If you love what you do,” he said, “you will never work a day in your life.”

The post Delaware soybean farmers remain optimistic amid dropping prices  appeared first on Spotlight Delaware.

Why Should Delaware Care? 
ICE detained a Delaware victim of domestic violence, despite her living with temporary protected legal status. If ICE had deported her back to her native country, her abuser would be waiting. 

Isabela wondered how she would reach the oxygen mask above her head in case of a mid-flight emergency. She imagined the yellow mask dangling idly as she helplessly tried to raise her arms above her head, 30,000 feet in the air.  

Her hands were cuffed to a chain around her waist, after all. 

Isabela listened as the flight crew detailed what to do in case the cabin lost pressure during the commercial flight to an immigration detention center in Louisiana. After the instructions, another passenger loudly asked why they were hearing a presentation if they couldn’t do anything with their waists, hands and legs entwined in chains.

A federal agent then walked over and said, “Just ask God.”  

U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement agents had arrested Isabela days earlier inside her Sussex County home. The ICE agents had burst into her house in the middle of a March night – without presenting an arrest warrant – looking for her brother.

Spotlight Delaware is identifying the woman interviewed for this story under the pseudonym of “Isabela” in order to protect her identity and in response to her fears of persecution and retaliation.  

The agents arrested the mother of two — who has no criminal history — in front of her children as they searched the house. They didn’t ask about Isabela’s immigration status before she was taken away in handcuffs as a collateral arrest.

Isabela was living in Delaware under the legal protection of “deferred action” as part of the lengthy U visa process, which helps victims of crime who assist law enforcement in catching criminals. Other U visa holders across the country, who have temporary legal status, have also been detained and deported as part of the Trump administration’s sweeping immigration crackdown. 

It’s not something good that’s waiting for me.

Isabela, The woman interviewed under a pseudonym for this story

As a victim of domestic violence, Isabela helped police find, prosecute and deport her ex-husband who stabbed her in 2019.

“ICE refused to recognize the temporary status that she was granted,” said Emily Houde, a supervising attorney with the immigration unit of Community Legal Aid Society Inc., a nonprofit that provides free legal services to vulnerable Delawareans.

When reached for comment, ICE asked Spotlight Delaware to disclose Isabela’s identity before commenting. To protect Isabela’s anonymity, the newsroom declined. The agency did not respond further to requests for comment on Isabela’s story.

Now, on the plane heading for Louisiana, Isabela found herself on a path leading directly back to her ex-husband — her abuser — who was waiting in their Central American home country three months after he was deported.  

“It’s not something good that’s waiting for me,” Isabela said. 

The Crime

Isabela hadn’t seen the knife in her husband’s hand. 

Late one August 2019 evening, he stood in the doorway leading out to the alley behind their home, beckoning Isabela to come closer. 

She questioned him over and over. Why did he want her to step into the alley, she asked. He was upset about how Isabela had reprimanded their son earlier that day. 

The confrontation was the culmination of her husband’s years-long attempt to control nearly every aspect of her life: how she dressed, who she spoke to, and if she worked. 

“If I went out to that little alleyway, I think he would’ve killed me,” Isabela said.

After she refused to come outside, Isabela’s husband instead charged in. He grabbed her arm and forced her onto the bed. The two struggled back to their feet, and she stood in front of him. 

Then he dug the blade into her ribs. 

Her husband pulled out the knife and was going to stab her again, but the blood-soaked blade slipped from his hand and fell to the floor.

It wasn’t until she looked down at the blood seeping through her shirt that Isabela realized she’d been stabbed. 

Her husband fled soon after. He wouldn’t be caught and convicted for another five years. 

Isabela filed a police report and began the U visa process with CLASI and Delaware Attorney General Kathy Jennings’ office. 

A U visa allows undocumented victims of crime to live and work in the U.S. for up to four years and places them on a pathway to citizenship. The status is intended for crime victims who have suffered mental or physical abuse and are helpful to law enforcement during the investigation. 

Congress created the U visa through bipartisan legislation in 2000 in order to bolster law enforcement’s ability to prosecute cases of domestic violence and sexual assault while helping protect victims of those crimes. 

There’s a cap of 10,000 U visas per year, which has led to a years-long backlog in applications. As of March 2025, there are 412,815 pending U visa petitions, according to U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services data. 

The Detention

The ICE agents’ boots sounded like horses storming through the house, Isabela recalled. 

Before agents rummaged through her home, Isabela demanded they show her an arrest warrant. They refused and broke down her door anyway, injuring her son with the doorknob as they barged in. 

Agents pointed their guns at Isabela and her kids before she was handcuffed and taken to the Salisbury, Md., ICE office. The federal agents allegedly refused to let Isabela make a phone call to her family or lawyer. 

Given the nature of her U visa case, her arrest information didn’t appear on ICE’s online detainee locator system, leaving her location unknown at the time. One of Isabela’s relatives notified Houde, Isabela’s CLASI attorney, that she had been arrested and Houde got to work. 

Houde first went to ICE’s Dover office, the agency’s sole location in Delaware, to see if Isabela was there. The Dover office had no idea the operation had even taken place but suggested the Salisbury location. 

In Salisbury, ICE officials told Houde that Isabela had refused to speak to her — a claim Isabela later denied — before being transferred to ICE’s Baltimore office. Isabela was finally able to call Houde in Baltimore and wrote down Houde’s direct number.

Without the family member’s immediate tip, Houde would never have been able to figure out where Isabela had gone. And without the written number, Isabela would never have been able to tell Houde that she’d been transferred to a Louisiana detention center. 

There, Isabela was a part of the second-largest population of immigrant detainees in the country – behind only Texas – with 7,493 detainees as of September 2025, according to the nonpartisan data research nonprofit Transactional Records Access Clearinghouse (TRAC) at Syracuse University. 

The detention center conditions were deplorable, Isabela said. Many detainees who had been there for months lost hope that they may ever leave the prison at all. Inch-thick mattresses, and rushed eating times were complemented by detainees being paid $1 a day to clean cells, she added. 

The Deal

Isabela later learned that rumblings of her deportation had reached her native country. Her ex-husband was waiting. Family members told Isabela he had made comments about how things would be different when she returned.

“He didn’t like what happened here, what they did to him, and I was going to pay him back for that,” Isabela said. 

Meanwhile, CLASI had notified Delaware’s Attorney General’s office about Isabela’s case and what was at stake. The case threatened to set a dangerous example for victims of crime across the state, Delaware Chief Deputy Attorney General Dan Logan said. 

“The plan was to send her right back to where her attacker would potentially be waiting,” Logan said.

The criminal justice system itself was at risk of being undermined if victims of crime, like Isabela, couldn’t be protected after coming forward, Logan said. 

“We went all in for (Isabela) for that reason,” he said. 

Leveraging relationships he had maintained within ICE from his time as the border security coordinator with the U.S. Attorney’s Office in Delaware during the first Trump administration, Logan and others negotiated Isabela’s release.

ICE officials in acting capacities “at least two levels above” the agency’s Philadelphia Field Office had to recommend Isabela’s release before the order was given, Logan said. 

When a release deal was finalized, Isabela had spent nearly a month in ICE custody. 

The Rescue

Maria Mesias-Tatnall, director of outreach services for immigration assistance with Delaware’s Office of the Attorney General, was at home when she got the call to bring Isabela home.

ICE planned on dropping Isabela at Louisiana’s Monroe Regional Airport with no documentation, phone, or money.

The trip back to Delaware was on her. 

For Mesias-Tatnall, there was no time to spare. Two hours after learning of Isabela’s release, Mesias-Tatnall was aboard a flight bound for Monroe, La. 

She would accompany Isabela back home. 

ICE eventually agreed to drop Isabela off at a nearby hotel, where Mesias-Tatnall would meet her.

Mesias-Tatnall arrived at Isabela’s hotel room door at midnight. Isabela skeptically opened the door, wearing the same pajamas she wore the night ICE took her.

“You’re safe,” Mesias-Tatnall said. “We got you.” 

Isabela threw her arms around Mesias-Tatnall and cried. 

The next morning, the pair went on a shopping trip to the local Target. Isabela needed new clothes to see her children, of course, Mesias-Tatnall said. 

You’re safe. We got you.

Maria Mesias-Tatnall

In the midst of government agencies and high-stakes negotiations, the shopping trip was a moment of humanity, like “two girlfriends going shopping,” Mesias-Tatnall said.

“I wanted to bring back a little bit of what was taken from her,” she said. 

After the shopping trip and a full day of traveling, Isabela finally reunited home to her children after a “traumatizing” month in ICE detention. 

The efforts by the attorney general’s office to rescue Isabela from her abuser were complete. Calls were made, flights were booked, and families were brought back together.

A spokesperson for Delaware Attorney General Kathy Jennings said the team works under the belief of doing the right thing when you can. And rescuing Isabela was the right thing to do.

There will be other cases like Isabela’s in the future. Jennings said she knows those cases are out there. And immigration enforcement under the Trump administration is only escalating. 

But for now, Isabela is safe. 

Logan, Jennings’ deputy, compared fighting Trump’s immigration policies to a haunted house — you can’t spend all your time worrying about what’s behind the next door.

You just have to find a way out of the room you’re in.

The post ‘Bring her back’: Delaware abuse victim rescued from ICE deportation appeared first on Spotlight Delaware.

Why Should Delaware Care? 
As both a place to check out books and a community gathering space, local libraries are integral resources to small towns in Delaware. Independent libraries in Sussex County are struggling to stay afloat financially though, putting the important community resources they provide at risk of disappearing. 

Community-Powered Journalism
This story was developed following discussions at a Spotlight Delaware Community Listening Tour stop. Find out more about the tour by clicking here.

For independent libraries in Sussex County, unlike their county-run counterparts, funding is a never-ending struggle that threatens their ability to stay open.

In 2024, the Selbyville Public Library had to come up with $87,000 just to break even on its operating costs. That same year, the Georgetown Public Library had to fundraise roughly 32% of its budget.

As county and state funding falls short, independent libraries across Sussex County struggle to fill in a third or more of their budgets each year.

Some libraries are not able to close this gap, either dipping into their savings or running a deficit to make ends meet. Others are narrowly able to break even, thanks to periodic fundraisers and contributions from community members. 

“What we get from the county roughly covers payroll,” Georgetown Library Director Rachel Culver said. “And then what we get from the state roughly covers building expenses. Any of the actual library work that we’re doing is not funded by the county or the state.” 

Most of Sussex County’s libraries – 11 of the 14 total – are independent. So they receive less government funding than libraries that are county-run in Kent and New Castle counties. 

And western Sussex County in particular suffers from a lower average household income that saps the financial means to donate and help libraries close funding gaps – unlike their counterparts in Lewes and Rehoboth Beach, for example, according to multiple library directors.

Despite monetary challenges, employees at western Sussex libraries keep going, working overtime to secure grants while also serving as resource hubs within their small communities. 

“My staff are really good at doing low-cost programs that have a big impact,” Laurel Public Library Director Gail Bruce said. 

Sussex County funding structure

Sussex County has 14 libraries in total. Eleven of those are independent, while the other three are county-run. 

That’s compared to New Castle County, which has 10 county libraries and just four independent libraries. Kent County has five libraries in total, which are a hodgepodge of county, school district and independently funded. 

While Delaware’s county-run libraries are funded entirely by taxes collected at the county level, independent libraries are financed through a mix of county funding, state funding and the library’s own fundraising. 

The goal is for roughly 15% of an independent library’s total budget to be covered by state funding and the rest by county funding, a representative from the Delaware Division of Libraries said. 

While New Castle County has reached that funding goal, Sussex County only funds about 50% of its independent libraries’ budgets, the directors said, leaving the libraries to conjure up the additional 35% in funds. 

New Castle County spent $19 million on libraries in 2024, compared to Sussex County’s $2.5 million, according to state Division of Libraries data. 

Sussex County funding for independent libraries comes from a combination of a library tax on properties and a fee paid by mobile homeowners wishing to place their homes in the county, according to Sussex County Director of Libraries Rachel Lynch. 

Once the money for independent libraries is collected in any given year, Sussex County library directors divide the funds among themselves, using a formula that considers program attendance, library visits and building square footage. 

This system is challenging, Selbyville Public Library Director Kelly Kline said, because the libraries are always competing for the same pot of money. 

“It’s a competitive formula, and anyone’s success is someone else’s subtraction,” she said. 

Library directors said they often feel stress about the fluctuating county funds from year to year, fearing the resulting programming or staffing cuts they could be forced to make. 

Frankford Library Director Bonnie Elliott said she was afraid that her library would have to close its doors after major funding decreases in 2023 and 2024, until the library bounced back with improved numbers in 2025. 

Commitment to independence

While the three county-run libraries in Sussex County – Greenwood, Milton and South Coastal – have an easier time securing funding, many of the independent library directors said the flexibility and autonomy their independence provides is worth the financial struggle. 

“We just have a lot more freedom as an independent to do what works for Laurel instead of what’s going to work for the whole county,” Bruce said. 

A representative from the Delaware Division of Libraries said all Sussex County libraries were offered the option to become county-run facilities in the early 2000s, but only Greenwood, Milton and South Coastal accepted the offer. Now, it is unclear if Sussex officials would be willing to fund another county library.  

While Kline, from Selbyville, agreed that it is worthwhile to have the independence to create programming for the community and have fewer county-level protocols to work with, it is a continued challenge for independent libraries to have to compete with each other for funding every year. 

In hopes of creating a more equitable funding system, Kline secured a grant for a consultant to help the county’s independent libraries re-examine their current funding formula. 

Though the consultant has yet to begin working, Kline said she is optimistic that it will provide some relief and bring new ideas to the county. 

“We want someone with a fresh perspective to come in and make some recommendations to us,” she said. “We want something that’s a little more straightforward.”

Staffing and hours

With a lean and unpredictable amount of county money each year and a large number of dollars to make up, many independent library directors said they are doing all they can to not cut staff or library hours. 

With three full-time employees and seven part-time staff members who work anywhere from six to 30 hours a week, Bridgeville Public Library Director Karen Johnson-Kemp described her library as “minimally staffed.” 

Culver, the Georgetown director, said she would love to add hours for her staff, but she can’t imagine a world in which the library would be able to afford it. 

To help fill budget gaps, library staff are picking up the extra work of writing grants and planning fundraisers. 

In addition to her full-time job at the Bridgeville Library, Johnson-Kemp is the organizer of the town’s annual Apple-Scrapple festival, which serves as a major fundraiser for the library, along with other nonprofit organizations in the community, she said. 

The Laurel Public Library has an annual block party aimed at raking in extra dollars, while Frankford is gearing up for a Halloween-themed trivia fundraiser in October. 

Across the board, libraries were forced to shorten the hours and days they were open in the wake of the COVID pandemic. In western Sussex County, many libraries never extended their hours back. 

The Seaford District Library, which has been without a director since April, is closed on Thursdays, Saturdays and Sundays. The Delmar Public Library is closed two days a week, and is only open for four hours another day. 

While other Sussex libraries have moderately longer weekday hours, all of the county’s independent libraries except Millsboro are open for just four hours in total on the weekend. 

“One of the things that is hard to do sometimes with staff is keep our morale up, when you have to cut hours, or look at the hard line,” Elliott, the Frankford director, said. 

Not just a library

For many western Sussex County towns with populations of just a couple thousand, there are limited options for community gathering spaces and places for residents to turn to for social services. So, in spite of financial challenges, independent libraries have increasingly become community resource spaces for small towns. 

“We are the community space, the community center, if you will,” said Culver, the Georgetown director. “The place that people can gather.”

In Laurel, a town with the highest poverty rate and one of the highest gun violence rates in the state, the library has become a particularly important place for residents to access resources. 

The library partners with a number of downstate nonprofit organizations, including Lunch With a Purpose and the Harry K Foundation, to provide a food cart, coat drives, hygiene stations in the restrooms and free eye exams to library visitors, Bruce, Laurel’s director, said. 

She added that the library began offering extra support services during the pandemic, and has continued expanding the scope of additional services as staff members have seen the need continue to grow in the community. 

“It’s been exciting over the last years to see how we can have this space and use it as a library, but also to meet those other needs in town,” Bruce said. 

Other western Sussex libraries have implemented programs geared toward specific needs within their communities. 

The Bridgeville Library has a wellness program where patrons can check out an exercise bag and follow workout videos on the library’s YouTube channel because there is no gym in the town of Bridgeville. 

The Georgetown Library holds job fairs and has a number of English as a second language (ESL) classes for the area’s large Spanish-speaking population, while the Frankford library makes its computers available to kids who need to do homework but do not have internet access at home. 

Johnson-Kemp, from Bridgeville, said these additional programs are indicative of staff members’ dedication to their role in the community.

“When you reflect on what we’re able to provide, it is a reflection on the community and our staff, and it means that we love what we do,” she said. 

The post Independent libraries struggle to make ends meet in western Sussex County appeared first on Spotlight Delaware.

Why Should Delaware Care?
Farmland that once covered most of Southern Delaware has been covered up by houses, industrial projects and, more recently, large-scale solar projects. Some local farmers hope that the USDA’s decision to stop funding these solar projects will help protect farmland. 

Large-scale solar projects on farmland have been controversial in Delaware for years, and now, funding changes at the federal level may slow the growing industry. 

U.S. Agriculture Secretary Brooke Rollins announced last month that her agency will no longer provide guaranteed loans to large-scale solar projects on farmland. 

“Subsidized solar farms have made it more difficult for farmers to access farmland by making it more expensive and less available,” Rollins wrote in a press release. 

Some Delaware farmers see this change as a win for farmland preservation. 

“I am absolutely tickled to death,” said Jim Minner, Kent County Farm Bureau president. “We’re losing too much really good viable farmland to solar.”

The change follows a period of rising wholesale electricity costs across the mid-Atlantic – one that last year sparked a backlash from state governors who called for sweeping reforms, including faster approvals of proposed wind and solar projects.

It also comes as Delaware lawmakers try to push for increases in the amount of renewable power produced in the state. In 2024, about 9% of Delaware’s total in-state net generation came from renewable resources, with most of it produced by solar energy, according to the U.S. Energy Information Administration. 

State officials want that figure to reach 40% by 2035.

This is not the first time the Trump administration has ended funding for solar projects. 

President Trump’s Reconciliation Budget Bill, also known as the “One Big Beautiful Bill Act,” signed into law this past July, made significant cuts to clean energy incentives. 

The law eliminated residential clean energy tax credits, which allowed homeowners to deduct 30% of the systems’ costs from their taxes. The incentive will expire on Dec. 31.  

In addition, companies and developers seeking to qualify for commercial clean energy tax credits must either start their projects before July 6, 2026, or have their projects in service by the end of 2027.   

Dale Davis, president of CMI Solar and member of the Delaware Solar Energy Coalition, said the cuts to federal funding, the tax credits and high tariffs on importing solar panels will “definitely create a downward trend” in new solar projects across the country. 

Farmers react

Minner said that local farmers are glad to see the USDA end the guaranteed loans to solar because of the rapid development of farmland in the southern part of the state. 

“What we don’t lose to houses, we lose to solar panels,” he said. 

Minner, who has been a crop farmer in Kent County for 35 years, recently lost a piece of farmland in the town of Viola that he had rented after the owners chose to lease it for community solar panels instead. 

“That was the best piece of ground I had,” Minner said. “It’s in solar panels now. I didn’t own that. So, I had to take whatever was given.”

Minner argues the spread of solar panel projects onto productive farmland means less land available for agriculture, forcing small farmers like him to compete for what’s left while also facing higher costs, as the financial incentives for leasing land to solar companies are often far better than farming income. 

“As more farmland goes into solar, all of us farmers are going to be fighting, competing for the same land, just – it’s not good,” he said. 

This opposition to solar projects on farmland isn’t new. 

In 2023, Kent County approved new restrictions that banned massive solar projects on farmland in response to the growing number of solar projects in the county. 

Individual solar projects now have a 50-acre limit in the county’s agriculture conservation zoning district, and there is a cap of 800 total acres that can be taken up by solar projects in that district.

“I’m not opposed to solar, but I’m opposed to solar taking up valuable farmland,” said Tricia Nash, a Kent County farmer who advocated for the solar limits. 

But Davis, the president of CMI Solar, said community solar projects on farms can actually help preserve farmland. 

Farmers can make more money by leasing out parts of their land for solar projects than they could from farming it, helping financially support the rest of the farm, Davis said. 

And once the lease on a solar project ends — usually after about 25 years — the land could go back to agricultural use, whereas the landscape would be permanently changed with other types of development. 

“Once you build a house on it, it is never reverting back to agriculture, ever,” Davis said. 

But Kent County farmer Paul Cartanza Sr. said it is “very, very expensive” to restore farmland to its original state after it has been used as a solar field. 

Solar companies sometimes agree to front the cost of removing all their equipment after the lease is up, but the topography and health of the soil still needs to be restored, Cartanza said.  

Some solar on farms still funded

Delaware farmers will still be able to get guaranteed loans for some solar projects, however. 

The USDA Rural Development Rural Energy for America Program will give loans for solar projects that generate less than 50 kilowatts of power as long as they are “right sized” to only provide power to the farm itself. 

New Castle County poultry farmer Greg Ains has one of these small-scale solar projects that produces about 21 kilowatts, about 90% of the power he needs to run his farm. 

In 2021, he received an $80,000 USDA grant and a $30,000 state grant to complete the project. The USDA now offers the guaranteed loans instead of grants. 

The total cost was $328,000 with an estimated five-year return on investment, but with the grants, the return on investment shortened to three years. 

State grants for solar projects, as well as low-interest loans, come from Energize Delaware, a state-created nonprofit that offers different programs and loans to support renewable energy projects in the state. 

Energize Delaware Executive Director Drew Slater said in an email that the nonprofit has about  $10 million of low-interest loans in the queue for approval. He said those loans are primarily for similar solar projects on poultry farms. 

Slater also noted that despite the federal incentives being taken away, he’s seeing projects move forward more quickly instead of being delayed or postponed.

“We know that the investment tax credit, there’s some certainty that is going to go away, and so what we’ve seen is that solar installers and customers are more eager to do it right now and try and push that timeline as quickly as possible,” he said. “So we’re not in this period yet of projects being delayed, deferred or eliminated.”

Ains said he likely would have made his investment into solar power even without the grants. But many farmers don’t have the upfront capital to make such a long-term investment, so the grants and loans are critical to these projects, Davis said. 

Ains is already seeing the benefits of his solar panels. Last month, his power bill was only about $300, and some months, he pays nothing at all. His power bills used to be about $4,000 a month. 

While Ains is seeing a financial benefit from solar, he said he also opposes larger-scale solar fields on farmland for the same reason many farmers cited.  

“Farmland is precious,” Ains said. 

Spotlight Delaware reporter Brianna Hill contributed to this report.

The post Trump admin cutting solar spending. Some Delaware farmers are celebrating appeared first on Spotlight Delaware.

Why Should Delaware Care? 
While the Sussex County-based Nanticoke Indian Tribe faced fundraising setbacks this past month, the Tribe has bounced back and appears to be flourishing ahead of its annual powwow and new cultural center renovations. This momentum for the Delaware tribe stands out amid federal funding cuts for tribal organizations. 

Preparations for the upcoming Nanticoke Indian Tribe powwow – an annual event celebrating the tribe’s culture and traditions that draws more than 10,000 attendees – were not all smooth sailing for the tribe. Just three weeks out from the event, scheduled for Sept. 6 and 7, the Sussex County-based tribe was facing a $30,000 funding shortage. 

Within 10 days of launching a GoFundMe campaign to close that gap, however, more than 130 community members came together to donate the additional money the group needed to fully carry out the annual event. 

Now, between the flurry of community financial support and the tribe breaking ground on a new community center last week, Nanticoke Assistant Chief Farrah Norwood-Stigall said members of the tribe are feeling the forward momentum heading into their 47th annual powwow. 

“We’re totally excited,” Norwood-Stigall said. “I like to say the powwow is pretty much a living classroom for people.” 

Nanticoke powwow history

Slated to be held at Hudson Fields in Milton on Sept. 6-7, the two-day powwow will feature dancing, drum circles, church services, and an all-around effort to educate people about Native American culture, Norwood-Stigall said.

The Nanticoke tribe has its roots in the Millsboro area of southern Sussex County, and the majority of the tribe’s 600 members still live in that area, Norwood-Stigall said. Some members have moved away from Sussex County, so the tribe’s reach now extends to parts of New Jersey, Pennsylvania and New York, she said. 

Other Native American tribes from across the eastern seaboard and even as far away as Canada make the journey to Sussex County to take part in the weekend-long cultural celebration, she added. 

The Kent County-based Lenape Indian Tribe, Delaware’s only other state recognized Native American tribe, also attend the event every year, Norwood-Stigall noted. 

The grand entry and prayer takes place at the beginning of both Saturday and Sunday’s festivities and is perhaps the most memorable display of Native American culture for attendees. 

“It’s hard to describe,” Norwood-Stigall said. “You get to see all of the tribes all together in unity and their flags.” 

June “Morning Star” Robbins, who is well-known in the community for making the tacos that fuel attendees all weekend, said the various dance performances throughout the weekend, including the Round Dance and the Nanticoke Toe Dance, are the highlight of the powwow for her. 

“I’ve been a dancer since I was a little girl. It’s a great honor to dance,” said Robbins, who is the curator of the tribe’s museum in Millsboro. 

Robbins added the Round Dance signifies inviting all people, regardless of whether they are Native, to join in the powwow and connect with one another. 

University of Delaware professor Jessica Horton, whose work focuses on Native North American art, said the powwow is a modern form of intertribal gathering that originated as a reaction to the late 19th century federal government policies of forced assimilation for indigenous people. 

Now, Horton said, the powwow is both a space of celebration and a chance for re-connection among the Native American community.

“The powwow is this vibrant cultural form that makes it so clear that Nanticoke and other native people are here,” she said. “They’re culturally vital and alive and part of the present and future.”

Mixed fundraising results

While the Nanticoke tribe faced some severe fundraising shortages ahead of this year’s powwow, the group simultaneously succeeded in its capital campaign project to build a new community center. 

The tribe was $30,000 short of its $80,000 powwow fundraising goal until the Cape Gazette published its GoFundMe on Aug. 14.

In just 11 days, 137 people donated just more than $16,500 to the campaign. The rest of the gap was covered by donations directly to the tribe, Norwood-Stigall said.

Norwood-Stigall said she is not exactly sure why the tribe struggled with funding for the first time this year. 

She speculated that some businesses and individuals have been giving smaller donations to events across the board due to general economic concerns. 

Though the majority of the $80,000 in fundraising goes toward powwow-related expenses, the money also sustains some of the Tribe’s operations, like paying its employees and supplying electricity to its building throughout the rest of the year, Norwood-Stigall said.   

“The powwow is our No. 1 fundraiser,” she noted. 

In addition to programming at the Nanticoke Indian Museum throughout the year, the tribe has a couple smaller events that it also hosts annually. These include celebrating Native American Day in November and Heritage Day in May. 

Horton, the UD professor, said the revoking of federal funding for tribal communities has left tribal cultural institutions across the country more vulnerable. 

Since the Nanticoke are a state-recognized tribe rather than a federally recognized tribe, however, they have not been impacted by federal funding cuts, Norwood-Stigall said. Instead, it was decreases in donations from local donors that made fundraising for this year’s powwow more difficult. 

But separate from the powwow funding, the tribe completed a $3 million capital campaign for a new community center and broke ground at the site, an expansion of the current community center located off of Route 24 in Millsboro, on Aug. 25. 

Norwood-Stigall said the group had been working on fundraising for the community center since before the COVID pandemic, securing various state and federal grants and getting the necessary permits from the county.

“It’s been a very long time coming,” she said.

The updated center, which is set to be completed by the end of summer 2026, will continue to offer the youth cultural education programs that the previous center had. Norwood-Stigall said she also hopes to put a food bank in the center, and expand to host other events for the broader Millsboro community. 

More expansion 

A couple of minutes down Route 24 from the tribe’s community center is its history museum, which has not received any updates or repairs since the 1980s, Norwood-Stigall said. In an effort to update both of the tribe’s spaces, she said, the group is also launching a fundraising campaign for museum renovations. 

In the wake of federal funding cuts for Native American institutions, Norwood-Stigall said she is more worried about fundraising for the museum project. 

“We are a little bit concerned about what the future holds for that,” she said. 

While the tribe has held its powwow at Hudson Fields in Milton for the past four years, Norwood-Stigall said the ultimate goal is to bring the annual gathering to the 31 acres of land the tribe owns behind its community center. 

Reaching that goal will require adding some more infrastructure to the land, such as bathrooms and electricity access points. Still, Norwood-Stigall said, it would allow the tribe to continue growing and sharing its cultural identity through the annual powwow. 

“It’s a sacred space where our people can gather, and a space where we can teach others our mission to preserve our identity, assert our sovereignty and create opportunities for youth,” she said. 

Get Involved
The Nanticoke Indian Tribe Powwow will be held at Hudson Fields in Milton from 10 a.m. to 7 p.m. on Saturday, Sept. 6, and Sunday, Sept. 7. Entry is free for children under 10, $5 for kids ages 11-17, and $10 for adults. 

The post Nanticoke Tribe overcomes fundraising woes, gears up for annual powwow appeared first on Spotlight Delaware.

Why Should Delaware Care? 
Resources for homelessness and drug detox are scarce across the state, but particularly south of the canal, where residents often need to go out of state to Maryland or Pennsylvania to get treatment. A couple of legislators and nonprofit organizations are trying to address that gap in Kent County, but they lack the necessary coordination and state funding to get the projects to the finish line.  

A former auto shop next to a Route 1 offramp? A Kent County court building? A two-story office building on West Division Street? Or a hotel? 

As Kent County rushes to address a worsening homeless situation, and a persistent drug crisis, all of these spaces in Dover have been proposed as potential sites to help people who are suffering.

Everyone seems to agree that something needs to be done. But a lack of committed dollars from the government, combined with limited coordination between different groups proposing new services pose a risk that the efforts could ultimately create a patchwork of underfunded facilities. 

“We already have small facilities and they don’t work,” said Doug Ferris, who recently purchased the auto shop property near Route 1 to build a 75-bed detox center. 

Ferris said his proposed center, by contrast, would be big enough to sustainably serve the county. 

On Monday, the retired financial advisor showed Spotlight Delaware the property, highlighting that it sits along Bay Road, an arterial where many homeless people sleep. During the tour, Sen. Eric Buckson (R-Dover) pulled into the property in a large pickup, wearing an American flag baseball cap. 

He joined the interview and began to talk about his own plans to provide homeless and addiction services. Offering a frequent Republican critique, he claimed that Delaware has “demonized” police, leading to too little enforcement of drug use. 

“I can show you where Kensington Avenue is in Dover, Delaware,” Delaware Sen. Eric Buckson (R-Dover) said, referencing a street in Philadelphia at the center of that city’s drug epidemic.

Buckson’s Push 

For Buckson, opioid use in Kent County is personal. 

His sister, a former Delaware lawyer, ended up pregnant and living on the streets with a drug addiction, he said. Buckson described the challenges that he and his wife faced having to raise his sister’s child for five years, while his sister was in rehab. 

Because of this experience, Buckson told Spotlight Delaware that he has been advocating for homelessness and drug use services even since the 2010s when he was a Kent County Levy Court Commissioner.

In more recent years, Buckson has been pushing for what he calls a “HOPE-style Center” in Kent County, modeled in part after a hotel that Gov. Matt Meyer turned into a homeless shelter in 2020, while he was New Castle County’s executive. He used $20 million in Covid-era relief dollars to make the purchase and subsequently named the facility the Hope Center. 

The Kent County version would be more focused on detox from drug abuse than its New Castle County counterpart, which is primarily a homeless shelter. Buckson said. He views drug use as more of a pressing issue in the Dover area. 

“It really should be a robust, middle-of-the-state center. All things addiction, mental health and everything else,” Buckson said. 

Buckson’s focus highlights an ideological divide among advocates for the homeless. With the differing opinion, University of Delaware professor Steve Metraux said the focus on detox in Kent County is misguided. Instead, he said the county would better benefit from more services that provide housing.

“At the end of the day, they’re still going to have a housing problem, and they’ve got virtually no chance of any kind of sustained sobriety if their housing needs aren’t met,” Metraux said. 

The Housing Alliance Delaware’s most recent statewide Point-In-Time count, which tracks homelessness across the state on one night in January, found that 2025 broke the record for the highest number of people unhoused, at 1,585. This was a 16% increase from 2024, which was the previous highest year on record. 

According to the Kent County Emergency Medical Services Division, reported opioid overdoses in the county dropped by 25% from 2023 to 2024. Still, Delaware remains the state with the fifth highest drug overdose death rate, according to the CDC. 

Buckson has been lobbying for a detox facility for years, and has suggested using a recently vacated family courthouse in Dover, which the state purchased with federal Covid-19 dollars. However, he said he has struggled to get people with the “necessary funding” on board. 

“I have failed miserably to get the attention of the majority party to help me champion this thing,” Buckson said. 

Buckson added that he is looking to the governor’s office to “move the needle” on the project by committing public dollars to it. 

In a statement emailed to Spotlight Delaware, Meyer’s office acknowledged the value of a potential HOPE Center-like facility in Dover, but did not commit specifically to providing funding or support for the project. 

“Our focus is on ensuring that any investment is sustainable and delivers measurable results for Delawareans in need,” Meyer said in the statement.

A detox center, from the ground up

Ferris, the owner of the autoshop property, said as recently as last year he had no intention of getting involved in the homeless services sector.  

But eight months ago, he said people who work in addiction recovery approached him about launching a detox center in Dover. He declined to say who made the suggestion. He soon began to see the dire need for such a space, he said. 

“You drive downtown and you look and it’s like, that’s somebody’s kid out there. It’s really sad,” Ferris said. 

Two months ago, Ferris closed on the property at 1011 South Bay Road, where he plans to demolish the auto shop there and build a detox center. 

Theresa Campbell Harris, director of the Center for Neighbors in Need in Dover, said she also sees a need for a detox center, given the number of the people who use the shelter’s meal program and also need medical attention for drug use-related issues. 

Harris doesn’t know where to send people, she said, because the limited detox services in Delaware are either too far for her center to transport people to, or are closed in the evening, when her center is serving meals. 

“It’s kind of hit and miss,” she said. 

Adding to the dearth of resources in Kent County, Harris said, Bayhealth Medical Center, the primary healthcare provider in Kent County, does not have a dedicated substance abuse team, like its counterparts at ChristianaCare in New Castle County and Beebe Healthcare in Sussex County. 

This makes Bayhealth a less viable option for residents in need of substance abuse treatment, she said. 

A spokesperson for Bayhealth confirmed in a statement attributed to Chief Strategy Officer John Van Gorp that the hospital does not have a dedicated substance abuse team, though it does “regularly treat patients experiencing medical conditions related to substance use.” 

In an effort to fill this gap in detox facilities, Ferris said his intention is to fit about 75 beds in the facility, which will eventually be staffed with doctors, nurses and therapists. 

While Ferris said he is prepared to finance the whole construction process himself, which he estimated would cost $4 million to $5 million, he hopes to get some state funding to push along the project. 

He said DEL-One Credit Union is helping to pay for the project, as well. 

Wraparound services

A 10-minute drive across town from Ferris’ space is 630 West Division Street, where the Dover Interfaith Mission for Housing has a building. Its officials acquired the property in 2023 using a federal grant, and they plan to turn it into an all-purpose facility with drug rehab, 40 beds of transitional housing and other support services. 

Carol Boggerty, the organization’s board chair, said she likes the HOPE Center in Wilmington as a model, but views the services that Dover Interfaith plans to provide as most closely suited to Kent County’s needs. 

“Standalone facilities like the HOPE Center, they won’t work in Kent County,” Boggerty told Spotlight Delaware. “So when people are ending Doug’s [Ferris] program, he will automatically know, ‘hey,’ I know Dover Interfaith has a bed.” 

The Dover Interfaith Mission has faced controversy over the past few years, as its former director and another employee embezzled over $700,000 in federal grant money, meant to be used for people suffering from homelessness. The two employees, Karen Wilder and Renwick Davis, pleaded guilty to the embezzlement charges on Aug. 8. 

Boggerty said the scandal has not impacted the rest of Dover Interfaith, as the community has recognized that it was an isolated incident with the two employees, and has continued providing financial support to the nonprofit. 

Still, she said, the organization has the funding to get the building ready, but not to carry out its full operation. For that, its officials need to get money from the state. 

Boggerty, who is also the director of pastoral care at Bayhealth, said she would like Interfaith’s new facility to partner with Bayhealth, so that the hospital could send patients there for care and transitional housing before they are released fully on their own. 

Bayhealth said that it was open to collaborations that could “complement” the care that the hospital already provides. 

A bipartisan effort? 

Though Buckson said he still needs “champions” from the Democratic “majority party” to get on board with the project, he andSen. Kyra Hoffner (D-Smyrna) have been collaborating on the vision for a couple of months. 

Hoffner, too, said she has recognized the need for better detox and transitional housing services in Kent County for a number of years, but the barrier has always been funding. 

Two years ago, Hoffner proposed purchasing a hotel on Route 13 in Dover for such services, but could not get enough money for it. She also said that neighbors opposed it. 

Now that Hoffner and Buckson are joining forces, she said she feels optimistic about the project. 

“I feel like we’re doing baby steps,” she told Spotlight Delaware. “But with me and Senator Buckson working together, it will become a bipartisan support.”

To pay for a service center, Buckson mentioned the possibility of using money allocated to Kent County from a commission that distributes public dollars that had been obtained from the state’s legal settlements with prescription opioid producers. 

Bradley Owens, director of the state opioid commission, said the commission already is giving “significant funding” to other Kent County organizations, indicating that any grant requests from Buckson’s  may not automatically be approved.

Still, he said he has met with Buckson to discuss his vision, and supports the senator’s push for better resources in Kent County.

Local politicians in Kent County, including Dover mayor Robin Christiansen and Levy Court Commissioner Bob Scott, also have expressed support for Buckson’s project. But, they also said its funding would be up to the state. 

Asked if the county could dedicate dollars, Scott said, “I’m not sure exactly what we can do.

The post Kent County groups have big plans to address homelessness, drug use, but money is scarce appeared first on Spotlight Delaware.

Why Should Delaware Care?
The Trump administration’s immigration crackdown has completely transformed the everyday reality for immigrants in Southern Delaware, imbuing the lives of hundreds of people with fear and uncertainty.

Gina remembers the abandoned cars appearing on the road. 

It was a week in March, and they emerged without explanation. 

Derelict lines of vehicles littered the shoulders of U.S. Route 113 leading into her hometown of Frankford — a rural town of less than 900 residents near the Delaware-Maryland border. 

Some cars still blinked their hazards amid the absence of their owners. Others would remain deserted on the side of the highway for days or weeks. 

All of them are remnants of the Trump administration’s crackdown on undocumented immigrants living in southern Delaware. 

Agents sweep through the roads in the early morning, arresting suspected undocumented drivers and leaving cars behind in their wake, according to resident accounts and social media posts. The drivers’ family or friends are often notified of the abandoned cars through Facebook posts or pictures in private WhatsApp group chats. 

“After a while, you realize why those cars are there and why they’ve been sitting there for more than a week,” Gina said.

The first thought for many immigrants at the sight of an abandoned car, residents say, is now that ICE took the passengers. Not car trouble or a busted tire, but federal agents.

In March, U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) agents escalated their enforcement in a cluster of rural Sussex County towns that are home to scores of immigrants from Mexico and Guatemala.

The crackdown imbued deep-seated fear into immigrant communities along the state border — including Dagsboro, Seaford, Frankford and Millsboro — leading to a complete upheaval of residents’ lives. 

Immigrants who have lived in Delaware for decades — raising children, paying taxes and opening businesses — are now retreating back into the shadows. The fearful conditions, some residents say, are the worst they’ve been in more than 20 years.

Gina, alongside two other women interviewed for this story, asked to only use their first names out of fear of retribution. 

Gina left for college last fall and returned to Frankford for the summer, eager to see her family, reconnect with friends and pick up a part-time job. 

But the new reality greeted her instead. 

She fears the next time she comes home, things might never be the same. 

“The worst scenario would be that everything I left behind is now gone,” Gina said. “I’m going to come back to an empty house.”

‘Incredibly dystopian’ 

In Delaware, administrative ICE arrests of undocumented immigrants have increased by nearly 115% since President Donald Trump took office in January compared to this time last year, according to the Deportation Data Project, a group that collects immigration enforcement numbers. 

There’s been an average of 1.6 arrests daily in the state since Trump took office, according to the data.

Many immigrants no longer leave their homes, except for work. Some completely forgo driving anywhere until the afternoon to avoid the morning traffic stops. Some trade workers have outright refused to drive work vans to job sites — a reaction to ICE agents seemingly targeting commercial vehicles. 

Some Latinos have even begun tinting their windows to avoid being profiled by ICE, police or other drivers on the road. 

Residents have formed clandestine group chats on Signal and WhatsApp to share information about ICE sightings and photos of abandoned vehicles. Every morning, dozens of participants check in from their corners of Delaware, usually writing, “all clean,” if their morning route is clear of law enforcement. 

“This feels […] incredibly dystopian to be almost hiding this way,” said Katy, a 23-year-old Frankford resident. 

The first thing Katy’s parents say when they pass a car on the side of the road is, “poor thing, they took another one.” 

The recent crackdown has completely transformed the family dynamics between Katy and her parents, who have different immigration statuses, as they try to limit their interactions with ICE.

“Don’t go there,” Katy recalled saying to her parents. “Don’t go to Salisbury (Maryland). For anything, tell me and I’ll go.”

Katy has been forced to initiate uncomfortable dinnertime conversations with her parents about what would happen if they were to be taken. She keeps copies of her parents’ work permits, has their lawyer’s phone number, and knows how to open their safe. 

Recently, Katy’s aunt and uncle, who have lived in Delaware for decades, received a letter telling them to report to Immigration Court. The pair abruptly packed up their lives and left for North Carolina.

Katy has become hyperaware of her surroundings. Unusual cars or license plates raise flags in her mind. 

“Where the hell are we?” Katy said. “What the hell have I done to be having to remember cars and plate numbers?”

For Carmen, a 23-year-old Millsboro native, the increased ICE enforcement has turned routine happenings into anxiety-inducing scenarios. 

One afternoon, her dad was taking longer than usual to return home from a job. While a commonplace occurrence, the tardiness now took on a different tone. 

“It’s 6, almost 7 o’clock, and he’s not home, and I’m over here scared,” she said.  “It is scary living moments like this because we’ve never seen it.”

‘That’s the fear’  

Reyna Gilventura’s father lived his life in Southern Delaware within a 5-mile radius. Fears of immigration authorities from his time as an agricultural worker in California lingered.

He might travel to Selbyville once a month for groceries and the laundromat, but that was it. No further. He never crossed that imaginary threshold. 

“That was the trauma he carried,” Gilventura said. 

Gilventura spent her childhood within that same threshold, amid the fearful haze of immigration crackdowns. But the conditions were still never as bad as they are now, she said. 

The consequences of living without authorization in the U.S. have evolved, and a new dimension of fear has emerged for Delaware immigrants. 

The Trump administration has deported people to countries from which they did not come, arrested those who are U.S. citizens and now threatens to detain immigrants in “Alligator Alcatraz,” a detention center in the Florida Everglades. 

“It’s OK if you get deported, it’s fine,” Gilventura said. “How about if you end up dead or somewhere else? That’s the fear.”

There was heavy immigration enforcement on the weekend of Gilventura’s daughter’s quinceañera in Seaford. What she expected to be an overflowing and jubilant coming-of-age celebration became a quieter affair. 

Gilventura even considered canceling the party. She didn’t want to be the reason why someone got in trouble. 

During the event, many guests who had agreed to attend did not show. Gilventura did not ask questions. 

“I knew why,” she said. 

For decades, immigrants said, Delaware was seen as immune to the effects of immigration enforcement and deportation seen across the country. 

The First State — touting just less than 1 million residents — wasn’t California, Texas or Arizona. 

But for many Delaware immigrants, that reality is changing. 

The post ‘Incredibly dystopian’: ICE enforcement upends lives for rural Delaware communities appeared first on Spotlight Delaware.

Why Should Delaware Care?
As the threat of deportation has increased for undocumented residents under the Trump administration, the state and some local jurisdictions have decided to not assist efforts to remove peaceful undocumented people. Those decisions may now come with a cost though, as the federal government has threatened funding cuts to those with such policies.

The Trump administration labeled Delaware, New Castle County and two municipalities as sanctuary jurisdictions that obstruct the enforcement of federal immigration law on Thursday, putting new legal pressures on policies that have shielded some undocumented families in the state.

The city of Newark and town of Camden were both classified as sanctuary municipalities that “deliberately and shamefully” interfere with immigration enforcement, according to the U.S. Department of Homeland Security. Delaware was one of 36 states that DHS listed as being out of compliance with federal law following an executive order signed in April.

Under the executive order, federal officials are instructed to find federal funds going to the sanctuary jurisdictions listed and suspend or terminate them as appropriate. 

If places remain sanctuary jurisdictions after they are notified of their status, the U.S. Attorney General and the Secretary of the Department of Homeland Security will pursue all necessary legal remedies and enforcement measures to “end these violations and bring such jurisdictions into compliance” with U.S. laws, according to DHS. 

The “sanctuary” classification of Delaware jurisdictions may be due to policies in place at the county and state level that restrict cooperation with federal immigration agents, as well as the reversal of a partnership between Camden police and U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE). 

The Trump administration’s labeling of Camden — a Kent County town of just over 4,000 residents — as a sanctuary jurisdiction comes just one month after the Camden Police Department became the only law enforcement agency in Delaware to formally partner with ICE. 

Camden police quietly signed a task force partnership agreement with ICE on April 29 that deputized local officers to enforce immigration law. Camden police withdrew from the agreement a week after it was signed, following public backlash and hours after Spotlight Delaware published a story about the agreement. 

Camden is one of hundreds of municipalities and counties that are catalogued in the DHS list published under an April 28 executive order that requires a list of sanctuary jurisdictions to be maintained by the U.S. Attorney General and the Secretary of the Department of Homeland Security. 

Gov. Matt Meyer, New Castle County, Camden and Newark officials could not be immediately reached for comment on Thursday night.

The Trump administration has previously retaliated against “sanctuary” jurisdictions in the past by suing them and threatening to withhold funding from them. Last week, the Trump administration sued four New Jersey cities for their “sanctuary” policies that were interfering with immigration enforcement. 

A “sanctuary” jurisdiction is typically a state, county or municipality that has laws or executive orders in place that restrict its cooperation with federal immigration authorities. The scope of the policies can vary, as there is no universally accepted legal or standard definition for “sanctuary” policies. 

The list was put together to identify sanctuary jurisdictions and was determined by factors such as compliance with federal law enforcement, information restrictions and legal protections for undocumented immigrants, according to DHS. 

Each of the listed jurisdictions will receive formal notification of its “non-compliance” with immigration laws and DHS will demand each place to immediately review and revise their policies to fall in line with federal law, according to DHS. 

Why is Delaware considered a ‘sanctuary’ state?

While Delaware has never officially been labeled a sanctuary state, officials have discussed and implemented policies that the Trump administration has considered “sanctuary” policies. 

In January, Gov. Matt Meyer vowed to “protect people” but stopped short of pledging to make Delaware a sanctuary state. 

“We’re going to protect people,” Meyer said at the time. “We’ll have no tolerance for anyone in Delaware going door-to-door or looking for people who are doing no wrong, doing nothing but trying to feed their family, and trying to send them away.” 

A month later, Meyer told Spotlight Delaware that Delaware State Police wouldn’t work with ICE in most situations. 

The governor’s office said it would not use state law enforcement resources to carry out federal immigration policies “unless there is a valid court warrant and an exigent circumstance where the community is at risk,” Misty Seemans, deputy legal counsel with the governor’s office, said at the time.

In 2017, then-New Castle County Executive Meyer signed an executive order restricting county police from working with ICE as well as prohibiting any arrests based on immigration status. In an interview with Spotlight Delaware on Thursday, current County Executive Marcus Henry said he “stood behind” that policy.

In the General Assembly, there’s nearly a dozen bills being considered that would restrict local law enforcement from cooperating with ICE. 

Still, immigration enforcement in the First State has quietly cracked down. 

A Spotlight Delaware analysis of unsealed court records showed that the U.S. Attorney’s Office for the District of Delaware drastically increased the number of criminal cases against people re-entering the country without authorization after previously being deported in the first months of the year.

The U.S. Attorney’s Office for the District of Delaware later confirmed Spotlight Delaware’s reporting by touting an 800% increase in the number of immigration-related criminal cases that the office has prosecuted this year compared to 2024. 

The post Trump targets Delaware, NCCo, towns for ‘sanctuary’ policies, threatens funding cuts  appeared first on Spotlight Delaware.

Why Should Delaware Care?
Federal immigration enforcement in Delaware has quietly ramped up in the first four months of the year, with criminal charges for unauthorized reentry skyrocketing in 2025. Despite receiving little attention, the escalation showcases the promises of deportation crackdowns on which President Donald Trump retook the White House.

Federal immigration enforcement in Delaware has quietly and drastically escalated in the first four months of the year, with federal prosecutors bringing forth more criminal deportation cases since January than in all of 2024. 

The U.S. Attorney’s Office for the District of Delaware has criminally charged at least 29 people with re-entering the country without authorization after previously being deported thus far in 2025, according to a Spotlight Delaware analysis of unsealed court records. 

Last year, the office only charged four people. 

The dramatic uptick in enforcement by U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) in Delaware comes amid the backdrop of President Donald Trump’s second administration, which was successful, in part, by campaigning on the promise of mass deportations and an immigration enforcement crackdown. 

ICE booked nearly 43,000 people into detention during the first three months of the Trump administration, according to the nonpartisan data research nonprofit Transactional Records Access Clearinghouse (TRAC) at Syracuse University. 

Conversely, the agency booked just over 24,000 people into ICE detention in the last three months of the Biden administration, according to TRAC. 

In late January, the Trump administration pressured ICE officials to increase arrests from a few hundred per day to at least 1,200 to 1,500, according to reporting from the Washington Post. The quotas came after Trump was reportedly disappointed with the outcome of the mass deportation promises he ran on.  

That led to initiatives like a six-day operation in Florida where over 1,000 people were arrested — over 60% of whom had an arrest or a conviction, according to ICE and reporting from the New York Times. The operation was geared toward arresting people with deportation orders and criminal histories.

ICE deportation operations in the First State have mostly gone unnoticed during the first months of the Trump presidency, with little media attention and no confirmed mass raids.

All of the 29 cases charged in Delaware so far involve men who are currently incarcerated, have been criminally charged and, or, who have been previously deported but returned to the United States.

The escalation of criminal cases against suspected undocumented immigrants, however, indicate that enforcement has quietly ramped up. Illegal reentry cases now represent the bulk of charges filed by U.S. Attorney David Weiss’s office in the first three months of the Trump administration.

Delaware State Police notified ICE of at least two arrests

In March, Delaware State Police notified ICE agents about two separate arrests of suspected undocumented immigrants. In February, Gov. Matt Meyer promised that state police wouldn’t work with the agency in most situations.

The governor’s office said it would not use state law enforcement resources to carry out federal immigration policies “unless there is a valid court warrant and an exigent circumstance where the community is at risk,” Misty Seemans, deputy legal counsel with the governor’s office, said at the time. 

In the March cases, both men had been arrested on criminal changes when their immigration status was checked. One man was arrested for drug dealing-related charges, while the other was arrested for stalking-related charges, according to court records. 

When reached for comment, Meyer’s office referred Spotlight Delaware to the Delaware Department of Safety & Homeland Security and did not respond to emailed questions. ICE and the U.S. Attorney’s Office for the District of Delaware did not respond to requests for comment. 

India Sturgis, spokesperson for Delaware State Police, said that both cases involved felony-level criminal offenses and in such cases, where there is a potential threat to public safety, “communication with federal agencies may occur in accordance with applicable law,” Sturgis wrote in an email to Spotlight Delaware. 

Delaware State Police does not proactively contact ICE or participate in immigration enforcement actions that are solely related to a person’s suspected immigration status, according to Sturgis. 

She added that information may be shared with federal agencies, including ICE, in connection with criminal investigations or public safety concerns. 

ICE arrests continue in recent days

On Wednesday, ICE agents with the Dover field office conducted a traffic stop on a Guatemalan man in Sussex County, ultimately arresting him and charging him with unauthorized reentry, court documents show. 

The agents stopped the man, believing he was another person for whom they had an immigration warrant. The man provided agents with a Guatemalan ID card and was arrested after he couldn’t provide immigration documents. 

The man was previously encountered by U.S. Border Patrol near the U.S.-Mexico border in Texas in 2014. The man was deported to Guatemala four days after being picked up by Border Patrol agents. 

On Thursday, federal agents in New Castle arrested a man from Mexico who had previously been deported three times in 2007, 2008 and 2009, according to court records. The man was charged in Delaware District Court with unauthorized reentry after being deported. 

In total, 13 people were arrested for various separate charges, such as driving under the influence and probation violations, before ICE was notified of their arrest by the agency’s California-based Pacific Enforcement Response Center (PERC), according to court documents. PERC notifies ICE field offices nationwide about undocumented immigrants who are suspected, arrested or convicted of criminal activity, so the agency can arrest them.

All of the people who have been charged so far this year are from Mexico, Guatemala, El Salvador or the Dominican Republic.  

In April, arrest warrants were issued for two men who were already in prison. One was facing pretrial detention, while the other was a sentenced prisoner at Sussex Correctional Institution. 

ICE has made over 26,000 arrests thus far in fiscal year 2025, which runs from October through September, according to ICE data. Criminal charges against two more men were filed on Wednesday and Thursday. 

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Why should Delaware care: 
Thousands of children have settled in Delaware over the past decade after arriving in the United States without a parent. Most of them have come from Central American countries that have been afflicted by escalating violence. What happens to them could impact communities, schools and the political landscape across the state.

Children who arrived in Delaware from outside the United States in recent years may have to represent themselves in immigration court after the Trump administration slashed hundreds of thousands of dollars last month that had been allocated to pay for lawyers for kids who had entered the country without a parent.

The decision has left Delaware nonprofits who provide immigration services reeling, and prompted some immediate layoffs at one local organization.

Among those who have lost their jobs is Joanne McAfee-Maldonado, who had served as a paralegal for the immigration childrens program at Church World Service in Georgetown since January. 

She was laid off on a Monday. She had until Friday to clear her caseload. 

In those five days, she told two children, ages 7 and 17, that she could no longer help them with their immigration cases. Instead, she referred them to other legal aid services in Delaware. 

She cried after they left her office, she said. 

McAfee-Maldonado’s clients were among the more than 26,000 children who had been receiving representation through the Acacia Center for Justice and its legal service providers across the country. Those include Church World Service and La Esperanza Community Center in Delaware. 

The Trump administration’s March 21 order cancelled part of a $200-million contract with Acacia that funds lawyers for unaccompanied children.

In a letter to Acacia announcing the decision, Trump administration officials said the contract was terminated “for the Government’s convenience,” according to reporting from the Associated Press. 

A U.S. Department of Health and Human Services official said that the department continues to meet legal requirements established by the Trafficking Victims Protection Reauthorization Act, which carves out legal protections for children who come into the country without a parent, in an email to Spotlight Delaware.

The White House did not respond to request for comment sent by Spotlight Delaware.

A shrinking legal industry

The funding cuts could force thousands of children to face the increasingly complex immigration system without a lawyer, increasing their chances of being deported, according to a report from the Congressional Research Service published last year. 

One striking example occurred in New York City earlier this month when a 4-year-old dressed in a tie-dye shirt sat for a virtual hearing with an immigration judge, holding a pink plushy toy, according to a report from Gothamist.   

“Not having legal representation to help (unaccompanied children) navigate this piece of their life makes them even more vulnerable,” McAfee-Maldonado said.

Unaccompanied children are minors who enter the United States without authorization and without an accompanying parent or legal guardian. Last fiscal year, the Office of Refugee Resettlement received 98,356 referrals for unaccompanied children from the Department of Homeland Security.

In Delaware, 3,606 unaccompanied children were released to sponsors from 2014 to 2024.

A total of 456 were settled just last year in the state. 

La Esperanza — one of the state’s largest organizations serving immigrants — oversees legal aid to 60 cases of unaccompanied children. Prior to the federal cuts, Church World Service was managing two. It has scrapped plans to take on three more cases. 

La Esperanza is continuing to manage its current unaccompanied minor caseload with its own funding, despite the federal dollar drought, according to Bryant Garcia, La Esperanza’s acting executive director. 

Prior to the funding cuts, La Esperanza had been eligible to receive up to $260,000 in reimbursements from the federal government to fund its unaccompanied minors legal program, according to Garcia. Now, they must find money elsewhere. 

“We’re still providing the service, but it’s just a matter of making up whatever funding we’ve lost,” Garcia said. “If all that funding dries up in the next coming years, then we can’t continue that work.”

The loss of money means that La Esperanza most likely won’t take on new unaccompanied minor cases, and instead will scrap expansion plans for new staff and offices. 

A Georgetown office shuttered

The Trump administration’s decision to cut money for legal aid to minors adds to other federal austerity actions that, in sum, have caused Church World Service to permanently shutter its Georgetown office — the only location in Delaware — after over a year of operations.

Church World Service was receiving about $335,000 for its unaccompanied minor work prior to the cut, according to Donna Polk, the organization’s office director in Georgetown. The office will close May 9.

The organization is also reducing staff capacity across the U.S. by nearly two thirds because of the federal actions, which include funding cuts to its refugee resettlement programs, according to the group.

In February, the Trump administration first abruptly cut funding for lawyers working with unaccompanied children, but reversed the decision a few days later. A month later, the administration reissued the cuts. 

Following the order in March, a handful of nonprofits sued the Trump administration over the funding cut. A federal judge in California held a hearing on Wednesday on the question of whether to issue a full injunction to stop the cuts.

She has not yet ruled on the question, and so it remains unclear if federal dollars will be reinstated amid the ongoing litigation. 

The post DE nonprofits lose money for immigration legal aid appeared first on Spotlight Delaware.